The End

Oh black knight,
why must you come to me,
in your black garments,
with your black sword,
and your blackhole smile,
waiting for me to come running
into your arms?
Why must you keep me up at night
with your loud laughter,
your blood-shot eyes,
and all your high expectations,
that you know I'll always fail at
just because you're out to get me in the end?
Why must you push me away,
only when I need you,
only when my heart is breaking so much,
that I'd run to anyone for comfort,
even you,
the one who broke it in the first place?
Oh black knight,
why have you killed my soul
and replaced it with a shadow,
a memory,
a doll,
something so superficial, so false,
that it's more like candy than a soul?
why must this pain be real,
so achingly real.
I can taste it on my tounge,
exhale it when I breathe,
consume it when I eat,
and feel it when a hand brushes my cheek?
why must nothing be tangible to me anymore,
why must I have to realize every day,
that if it wasn't for you,
I'd be so vibrantly alive,
instead of so much more like
a depressed Barbie Doll?